


The Good Ship Freedom

by ladymal



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elvhenan, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5823211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymal/pseuds/ladymal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saehin is a slave belonging to one of Andruil’s most dedicated Hunters. They sail the seas on the dreaded ship, The Silent Tread, bringing death to any who dare cross them. When the Hunter’s newest prey turns out to not be prey at all, Saehin and the damaged Hope within her find something unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good Ship Freedom

He was the Bringer of Nightmares, they said. The Roamer of the Beyond and the first of all demons finally taken form so that he may terrorize the world anew. His gaze was fire and blood and he had a voice that promised pain and death. There were other whispers, too. Of noble heads rolling across decks, their bodies tossed into the sea or left strung up upon the shore so that the insult could be seen. Of slaves and uprisings and _freedom_.

At least some of these rumors were true or Saehin would not be on a ship in the Frozen Sea, waiting for their mistress to find her prey.

And it was a matter of when. Lady Adasalin was one of Andruil's Hunters and had triumphed at the helm of The Silent Tread against greater game than this. Her ship was made for it. The shallow hull was reinforced and the ram was the teeth and claws of a dragon so that they may glide through the water without fear of the ice. It had no sails but the Spirit of the Ship was strong; both Saehin and Hope could feel it singing through the deck like a plucked string beneath their feet. Joy propelled and protected effortlessly with power to spare. She would be surprised if the Bringer of Nightmares’ spirit lasted long against it though she hoped that it did.

 _We should kill her first_ , Hope murmured, a lash of simmering hate.

There were few that the spirit hated more—for all that she had done to them and might do—but the familiar desire was quieter than it might have been. Uncertain hope had nestled itself into their chest and had returned the spirit some of itself. The feeling was small and fragile—flickering like a candle in the wind—but it was there. All from talk of defiance by a lowly pirate and the glimmer of opportunity they'd been presented.

 _No_ , she answered. _Not unless we have to._

Burning pain erupted as Hope clawed at the blood-writing that bound them but otherwise was silent. It was an old argument between them; kill the ones that have harmed them and burn it all until there is nothing left. There was a part of her that wasn't Hope that wanted to, that hated just as much, but it wasn't the part that mattered. Not when every moment was a struggle to keep them both from breaking.

Hope's flair of temper left their muscles aching and beneath their armor and furs, she knew that the flesh around the golden blood-writing would be red, the veins the color of its hate. A simple spell would heal the pain but to ask would have been pointless. She might have wrest control of their magic away just long enough but it was never a sure thing when the spirit was feeling sullen. The pain was meant as a punishment for both of them and Hope rarely liked for them to escape it so soon.

A beat of regret and misery and grief followed by soothing energy. _Absent and abstracted. Struggling to stop the cracks._ _I'm sorry_ , the spirit said.

Her response was tired. _I know._

There was a flash of movement but when she looked out over the icy sea, she saw nothing. The waves were curious, half frozen like sweet ice with too much syrup, and the slow, heaviness of them often tricked her eye. A gloomy fog had risen from the too-cold waters during the night and still lingered, stinging what small amount of skin couldn't be covered with each tiny breeze. It made sounds carry in strange ways and muffled them in others. For long moments, there was thick silence and then her ears would twitch as they were struck by a handful of brisk words or the long creak of wooden boards.

It put her on edge and it was a poor time to be nervous.

"This fog is a nuisance."

As their mistress strode up to stand beside them, Saehin quelled a startled flinch and bowed. Lady Adasalin wore armor and furs—same as them though of lighter weight—but had her hood and woolen scarf pushed down to leave her face bare. _The better to find her quarry_ , Saehin thought wryly. _Or frostbite_.

"Would that you were not useless for this sort of thing," Lady Adasalin said. She turned to them and Saehin averted their eyes as expected. "But I did not make you for weather, I suppose."

 _Would that we could slaughter you in your bed_ , Hope whispered and disdain curled their lip but Saehin was quiet.

"Or conversation, apparently." Their mistress rolled her eyes. "Hatred, what can you tell me?"

Saehin retreated so that Hope could respond. The black glow of their eyes and the skin around the blood-writing gave her face a gray cast.

"Red flowing from your throat like water over a falls. Such a broad smile would suit you."

The reaction might have been harsh laughter and an equal threat on any other day but today. Their warning was a shift in the Fade and a slight twitch of of their mistress' fingers. Magic became a whip of force that struck their mouth and cheek. It smarted and bruised but didn't bleed.

"Tell me what I want to know this time, my hatred."

"There is nothing but ourselves, the Spirit of the Ship, and the creatures deep below us," Hope said, its voice leaving a sensation on their tongue like the sting of nettles and the taste of bitter ash in their throat. "As there has been for weeks."

Their mistress gave them a hard stare but accepted the truth of it with a frustrated narrowing of her eyes. "If they were close, they would not be able to hide. You are too powerful even if they knew of you."

"The Bringer of Nightmares might not care for the bait, Worthy Huntress," Saehin said as Hope withdrew.

The thought that their opportunity may not come gave them a hollow feeling in their stomach.

Lady Adasalin laughed derisively. "They are pirates. What else would they care for if not riches?"

 _Noble heads severed from noble shoulders if half the stories are true_. The words balanced on the edge of their tongue but it would be Saehin to say them and she had long ago learned better.

"No, they are here," Lady Adasalin said, "but a blind hawk will never find the hare. We—"

A feeling like a rope snapping in their gut—tension released in a violent, wonderful burst—and the ship shuddered. A few shouts from the crew, the bang of something falling carried through the fog. The tremors continued and quickened and they were forced to grab onto the bulwark or lose their feet. Metal and wood shrieked. For an instant, Saehin wondered if the vessel was going to shake itself apart but then it stopped as sudden as if it had never started.

 _Joy_ , Hope told her, the thought echoing with exhilarated disbelief. But Saehin didn't need to be told; she could sense the change just as well.

The Spirit of the Ship was free.

Their heart was pounding and they clutched the railing to hide the trembling that had taken over their hands. Lady Adasalin hadn't noticed that the binding had been broken— _she wouldn't_ —or their reaction to it. She was half turned and scowling at the ship's Keeper who stood at the helm behind them. The man was partially shrouded by fog but Saehin thought that the red blood-writing above his scarf stood out a little more vividly than normal.

Lady Adasalin left their side—in order to shout at the Keeper, presumably—but, for once, Saehin ignored her entirely. Instead, she stared out at the sea, searching, hope swelling into their throat. _There's nothing—but the spirit—where—?_ A burst of crimson in the mist and they sucked in a breath as they calmly stepped back. Their mistress was snarling, now. The bloom of red was expanding, becoming triangular sails. A velvety black flag with eyes that blazed fire and blood thrashed among them like a hooked fish.

There was no time to brace themselves. Saehin caught sight of a black iron wolf lunging out of the waves; it jaws snapping before the world around them exploded.

Hope cast a barrier as they fell to the heaving deck. Shards of wood and metal—some of them the length of their arm—buffeted against it. They scrambled to look. Without the Spirit, The Silent Tread had been rent almost in two and the pirates were taking advantage of the chaos. They leaped and ran along the bow that connected the two ships. As the hunter's reeled, they attacked with sharp magic and blades. The Keeper was still at the helm, trying to pull them free but the ship was little more than kindling now.

Lady Adasalin had found her feet and surged passed them with a bellowed cry. A howl cut through the sounds of battle and forced a chill down their spine. The fog swirled and began to lift. Another tremor—side-to-side as if they were being shaken by a giant dog—and sent everyone but the pirates stumbling.

The screams of the dying rang in their ears as Saehin stood and Hope absorbed and deflected the stray spells that flew too close. Some of The Silent Tread's crew didn't deserve death; she could save them if she tried but she didn't. She told herself that that was why she was there, frozen with a sick feeling in their gut, but it wasn't. _Hope_ , she thought—reminded herself—and it was enough.

No one had noticed them at the edge of the fight or how she turned and ran. The lifeboat was nearby, away from the fighting. It took seconds to reach but their heart almost stopped when she saw it hanging twisted from its ropes. _Please, be intact_. It was but it took precious minutes to untangle it with their unsteady, fear-wracked hands. Once it had swung free, she looked over the runes that operated the pulley. They were dead—drained by Joy's release.

Saehin yanked on the ropes. Not even an inch. She peered over the railing, ignoring the buzzing magic swirling around them and the clang of weapons. It was a long drop and likely to send them tumbling into the frozen water to die. She swallowed a shout of frustration. _Can you activate them?_

 _No_ , Hope said, its voice strained. She jerked their head to look over their shoulder just as a spell slipped beyond the spirit's guard.

Their barrier diffused the intent as a web of lightening but not the force. It slammed into their back, knocking the air from their lungs and shoving their ribs into the bulwark. The barrier shattered. Hope blasted the blinding, needle-sharp dust away before it could harm them. She ducked and turned as the spirit lashed out with fire. It set the deck ablaze but their attacker stepped through it untouched. Saehin saw the gleam of armor and a silver wolf mask in the dying flames.

A prison of magic crash down over them, locking them in place, and the last she heard from Hope was its scream of rage.

 

* * *

 

They were left there paralyzed, Hope gagged, and on their knees as the fighting continued. The fog had disappeared but Lady Adasaline's hunters never fully recovered their equilibrium. The pirates swept over them like the tide. She couldn't see well from where they were but there ended up being fewer bodies than she'd expected; most had survived to be escorted off of The Silent Tread and held captive. A few made attempts at escape—their mistress included—but were quickly, efficiently subdued making Saehin wonder just who these bare-faced, armored pirates had once been.

The man in the wolf mask stood atop the bulwark, hands clasped behind his back, and watched the proceedings in silence. Unlike his crew, none of what he truly looked like was visible; a hooded leather coat and fine armor covered every patch of skin. It all fit too well to be scavenged and he wore it as if he was long accustomed to it. A thick wolf's pelt was slung over his shoulder to match his false face; a curious theme for one who was called the Bringer of Nightmares but who else could it be?

When everyone but her and Hope had been moved onto the pirate's ship, the wolf stepped down onto the deck and disappeared from sight. She waited, listening to the ocean against the ship, the groaning of wood, and the rise and fall of distant voices. There should have been fear and there was a little but less than when they'd been trying to escape. She supposed it was because whether it was magic or will or metal, all chains were familiar.

Hope was tearing at the magic that held them with indiscriminate claws that caught on the two of them just as often as it didn't. She took a shuddering breath, deep as their cage allowed. _Peace_ , she told it. _Wait. There's still hope._

If the spirit had a response, she couldn't hear it. Its attacks eased though she suspected that it had more to do with it realizing its efforts were useless. Their prison had bent slightly under the strain but remained whole and unwavering.

The wolf was approaching, his walk a languid prowl as he climbed the few steps from the main deck. Saehin stiffened, surprised, when she saw what followed behind him. A spirit—not bound by flesh or by spell—with an oddly concrete form shaped like a woman in robes. With Hope's magic subsided, she could feel the brush of its magic against them. Heavy and complex but calm. Gentle. She had never known this sort of spirit and she couldn't help but stare, Hope's wary curiosity tickling their throat.

As the wolf and spirit stopped in front of them, she looked away.

"I understand your confusion," the spirit said.

"Do you?" the wolf asked. He had an elegant voice. Fitting but not at all what a lowly pirate should have sounded like. "I find myself rather less than illumined."  
"It would be clearest if you were to see for yourself."

He said nothing. Saehin braved a glance and a thrill of fear as his hand reached for her face. Enraged, Hope threw itself against their prison. He must have felt it because he paused briefly before pushing away the hood and scarf that shrouded their face. The air grew keen with tension as the broad strokes of their blood-writing—and Hope's branching corruption pushing against it like crowded vines—were revealed.

"And their depravities continue unchecked," he said and it was deeply angry. "I had no idea it was possible for the blood-writing to be used to contain a spirit in such a way."

The spirit bowed its head. "Those who do would guard it jealously. They would not quickly relinquish an advantage in their constant war against one another."

"That is true." His tone became wry. "Let us be thankful for small mercies."

This was...not the reaction she was accustomed to. People—nobles—were fascinated, intrigued by the possibilities of forcing such a powerful spirit into a body already occupied. Sometimes, they were afraid or disgusted in much the same way as her fellow slaves were. No one had ever been...outraged. And the wolf was, she realized. His expression was hidden but Hope could feel the tight knot of it in his stomach, an old thing made new.

 _This is...strange_ , she thought and felt Hope agree.

The magic holding them relaxed just enough that they could speak though neither the spirit or the wolf had moved. Hope surged, venomous words prickling their tongue and throat, but she shoved it down and waited.

The wolf placed his hands behind his back once more with relaxed confidence. "Hello. I expect you are curious as to why you are here. But first, I believe introductions are in order. My name is Solas and this is Wisdom. Might we know yours?"

Saehin flicked her gazed between them but didn't quite find their faces, cautious and not quite sure how to answer. What did he want to hear?

"My name is what pleases you," she said finally and ignored Hope's snarl.

The words made their swollen lips and cheek ache and she flinched more out of startlement than anything. She'd forgotten about the earlier chastisement.

He shifted. "Genuflection is unnecessary though if you wish to remain anonymous, I understand."

"What do you want with us?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"With you? Nothing other than to free you both if you're willing."

Prudence disappeared and she stared at the gleaming silver of his false face. Their heart gave a few fierce, painful beats.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"Do you not know? You are, after all, part of Lady Adasaline's hunting party. One would assume she would bother to inform you who you were hunting."

"Who—or what—she thought you were doesn't seem to apply."

"And who—or what—was that?"

It was teasing and made her frown in further confusion. "A pirate."

"That is not an inaccurate description if lacking. I prefer the term 'revolutionary.'"

If she lifted his mask, she suspected that she would find a toothy smile. Dangerous and full of promises. She—they desperately wanted to believe them.

Hope pushed to speak—some of its edges smoothed—so she let it. "You said that you would free us."

Solas seemed to consider them, perhaps wondering at the cold, depthless echo of Hope's voice or the dark glow of their eyes.

"I did," he said at length. "If not from one another then from the woman who has enslaved you and done you great harm. She will not escape justice for her crimes."

"We would kill her," Hope blazed. "Slowly. Sharply. Relishing in her screams."

Tilting his head, he hummed and Saehin thought he almost sounded smug. "Perhaps, I may know with whom I am speaking?"

"I..."

Their stomach swooped at the hesitation but in the end, the spirit retreated—quiet and without continuing. _It is better than you would have done not so long ago_ , she reminded it and hushed her own disappointment.

"Hope," Saehin told him instead. "It's a spirit of Hope."

That was not what the wolf had been expecting, she didn't think. He glanced at Wisdom who bowed its head with a small smile.

"You are wise to think of it as such," it said. "Hatred is powerful but cuts at both ends. It is not something to be encouraged. In such circumstances least of all."

Eyes still averted, she lifted their chin just slightly. "It is not Hatred. It will _never_ be Hatred."

"Good," the wolf said. "I wonder. Do you desire as Hope does? To see Lady Adasaline dead?"

"I don't care what happens to her." She took a breath. It rattled in their lungs as if her next words were caught within. "I want to be free."

The magic that bounds their limbs disappeared without warning, making them swallow a gasp and painful feeling return to stiff muscles and aching knees. Hope urged them to leap to their feet but she didn't move.

Solas bowed his head. "And so you are. If you wish to leave when we next make port, you may. There is a place for you on our crew, however, if you do not. The choice is yours."

She searched for a trap but if there was one, she didn't think that it would spring closed now. Fear twisted in their veins but after a moment, she stood.

"What place would that be?"

"That will need to be determined."

When she was silent, Wisdom spoke. "Trust is not easily given, we understand. We put ourselves at risk with our offer just as you would by accepting."

"Were you serious?" she asked, wavering. "When you said that you would help unbind Hope?"

"We can make no promises," he said. "The application of this magic is unfamiliar and proceeding recklessly may simply kill you both but, yes. I would not see your suffering and do nothing."

 _Yes_ , Hope whispered. She flexed their hands.

"My name is Saehin and...we will stay."

He gestured for them to walk and said something but they'd apparently lost the ability to hear. Their heart was hammering against their ribs and they felt dizzy. Hope was laughing with a happiness she not heard from it in decades. It bubbled up from their chest and she nearly joined in.

Free. They were free.


End file.
